The Unfilled Gaps in the Creational Gonomon: The Creative Rosa-Petals that Liberate the Walking Mind of the Sun by Penetrating into the Prima Matra of the Alblackica Consciousness

Alblackica Plate III, Samij Datta, 2012

The Unfilled Gaps in the Creational Gonomon: The Creative Rosa-Petals that Liberate the Walking Mind of the Sun by Penetrating into the Prima Matra of the Alblackica Consciousness


It’s more with the notion of not knowing the known that the unknown gaps are filled.

More like Michelangelo chiseling at the stone for the right curvature.

It was the art here that manifested the beginning of things beyond the classic number line. Two giraffes make the holy home drape with the rain of flowers that bloom on Sunday mornings- they can make you laugh- laughter is the evangelical Hotei, the alpha neurotic desire of the plastic caz-length for every avra height in the vessel that holds the Prima Matra of the creation. The Prima Matra? Evening’s ether roaming around in the wind-filled vessels of their time their algebraic reconstitution is silently similar to the first index days of the afterlight –sun is the window of the dark red horse-point, its creative index is higher than the light itself; Yuwaziya- every river is the wind-hole of the map of nothing; America was founded on Toscanelli grace it was as if beauty had the risk of adventure written on her lips and from her face and on it the shinning tablets of cognitive knowledge, the prism that founded metamorphosis of rocks took with it the ionic pentameter and made Aurobindo from the Bazin-Coal, the Razin-Coal. What power the art unmanifest, what craft thou manifest through which Krishna evolutes from the prima matra, I see gold dust in the black plates of Alblackica, I see them all in their colours that are psychically transmuting Porphyry into the heliographic image of the sun.

Rose was the sensation of the first love’s innervating evolution from the zero matrix of all – the zero is the womb that had in its circle the triangular design of the cosmic descent to create to recreate to evolute but not to die, that’s the secret letter of alblackica to the Quabiva conevaxness of the consciousness for the right evolution of the earthly race.

Yuwaziha Yuwaziha there comes a time with the wind in the river fills the gap in the plates with every bliss earned the grace gives the cross for the love of nothing and the tide turns when eternity plays the harmony with the laughter and a smile.

– Joy Roy Choudhury

Ref: ‘American Beauty’ Album Covert Art/Grateful Dead (1971)




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1 Comment

  1. tuli ghosh

     /  February 11, 2012



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